Amaideas
by Lottea
Summary: The story of Little Red Riding Hood and The Wolf with magic, loss, temptation and love as you never heard it in storybooks. R
1. Moonlit Darkness

_"There was once a sweet little maid, much beloved by everybody, but most of all by her grandmother, who never knew how to make enough of her. Once she sent her a little red riding hood of red velvet, and as it was very becoming of her, and she never wore anything else, people called her Little Red Riding Hood." Little Red Riding Hood, Brothers Grimm_

* * *

Thick branches clawed at the great black wolf's fur and the mud gripped at his feet, trying to slow him as he ran. Tree roots rose from the ground to catch his paws and the violent rain and deafening thunder pounded at his senses. The Forest did not wish him to escape his crime this time. 

_You do not wish me to escape, and yet you showed me where they live! You lead me to my prey in my hour of darkness, and **now** you shield me from the moon, return to me my light so that I might feel the guilt for what I could not have stopped… _

But the wolf knew the Forest well and was more than a capable match. He pushed to run faster. _Well you can no longer control me…_

As if the Forest had heard his thoughts and taken them as a challenge, the trees suddenly leaned back, bending away from him with a series of horrible, condemning cracks. His path was left a clear and wide canyon, letting in a harsher stream of rain and perfect vulnerability to the gray-black sky.

The wolf froze, the weight of his abrupt halt making a loud squelch in the thick mud.

_No…**please**…_

For an instant, the wolf thought he was safe, but he was only permitted to hear the shouts of the approaching villagers, closer now, before the smoky clouds parted just enough to reveal the bright, full moon.

The wolf roared in anguish that consumed his great body, forcing it to swell and grow until his shoulder was the height of a man. His jaws and feet seared in torturous pain as each fang and claw stretched to thicker, longer, and sharper weapons. Every thought and emotion racing through him, his very _spirit_ was forced aside and his buried bloodlust and craving for murder surfaced and took control.

He turned and took a step toward the direction he had come; the villagers' scent was strong…

Suddenly, he turned his great head away again. Something new had caught the attention of his soulless, hungry mind. A girl's scream had echoed through the trees.

* * *

Rowena shivered as she sat on a high branch in a maple tree, leaning against the upper trunk, her long red hair, white silk gown, and scarlet velvet cape wet with rain. She loved to watch storms like this from the treetops, storm clouds had such a dark and twisted beauty, and this particular maple had a perfect window-sized opening in the leaves by her favorite branch with a view of the whole forest, a blanket of hundreds of emerald treetops stretching to the horizon. 

The storm was growing fierce. Rowena didn't mind being wet to the core, or ruining her white silk, but the branches had begun to sway treacherously in the wind's tumultuous grip, and she began to long for a cozy blanket in her cottage and the comforting warmth in front of the hearth.

In one fluid movement Rowena leapt gracefully from the tree and fell with the rain, through the Forest's canopy, until she caught a branch near the bottom and then swung from it to the earth, her bare feet landing with a splash of mud. Ignoring the deepening stains and tares in her skirt, Rowena hurried in the direction of her home, hood over her head to shield her eyes from the torrent of raindrops.

But suddenly, the branches of the trees before her twisted and stretched to block Rowena's path with a thick barrier of wood. She stopped. She didn't understand. The Forest always gave her easy passage to her home, why was it stopping her? What it upset with her? That couldn't be, Rowena had never harmed a creature or plant in this wood, and the Forest kept her safe and well for it. Deciding to trust it, she turned, slowly, and walked the way she had come, away from home.

Frightened, she began to run, knowing she must follow such direct orders but anxious to get the journey over with. Branches and roots and any obstacle slid aside, showing her the obvious path. She was going north, toward the fallen village Pleoh. She prayed she would not meet someone here, man or creature. Both were dangerous near Pleoh, where easily accessible magic liquors only made things worse.

Finally, about half way to the village, the trees stopped her again. Small rain still hit her face, but the trees above were thick enough now and she started to dry. It was the cold that struck her, and the even icier fact that she didn't know how to get home. It had grown to be a very dark night.

Rowena jumped, a roaring growl of animal pain tore through the night, not far away. She began to panic; a large creature rather near by was very angry… She gasped. Tonight was a full moon! It couldn't be… She backed up slowly, away from the noise, when a tree goblin leapt before her from above and grasped her wrists so suddenly and tightly that she screamed in fright and pain.

"Now, now, lass…" He hissed, fighting to grip her in his green hands against her struggles. "Let's not draw attention from the unkind…" He glanced in the direction of the growls, and then muttered a foreign spell Rowena could not hear. Instantly she felt numbness in her teeth and jaw, and when she tried to speak her teeth involuntarily bit hard on her own tongue. As the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth Rowena had to simply glare at the goblin and fight back tears of pain. He chuckled at her.

"You _are _a pretty one," He said. "Tell me, are you a witch or a fairy? I should like some wealth potion or fairy gold… You don't want me to have to kill you do you… Just nod if you're a witch. Come on…"

Rowena spat her blood in the goblin's red eyes and he screeched as orange welts formed on his green, pointed face. Creatures derived entirely from greed and lust for powerful magic, goblins were violently allergic to non-magical blood. He let go of one of her wrists to clutch his face.

"HUMAN!" He screamed in disgust. With a wrench Rowena's trapped hand was free, but just as she turned to run she felt the goblin's iron fist collide with the back of her head in an explosion of pain, and all was dark.


	2. Encounter

_Author's note: **wow**, I just saw the new movie The Brothers Grimm, and there are a few large similarities between my story and some parts of theirs. I **promise** that the movie influenced my writing in no way. I wrote the first chapter and the start of this one before the movie came out. I thought I'd clear that up. Plus, thank you sooooo much for the reviews! P.S. sorry about the wait, blame my crap teachers and their crap homework and my crap procrastinating. So, without further ado…_

* * *

In the distance, through the trees and their jagged shadows he could see her, the girl that had screamed, her dress glowing ghostly in a ray of moonlight. He crouched here, far enough from her so that she would not detect his presence. But she lay in an awkward position, her red hair, dark and edged with silver light, hiding her face. She was unconscious. Somewhere deep inside him something wondered why…

Oh, but he could smell her blood… such an _easy_ target. It was almost disappointing there would be no chase…

Something moved. A bony tree goblin came into view, crouching over the girl. A low growl rolled in the wolf's throat. The goblin's long, pointed ears seemed to have caught the far-off noise, because he stood quickly and looked about nervously. Apparently deciding the girl wasn't worth it, the goblin stretched his long arms up to the branches, and with a swift tug he was gone.

The immense wolf threw back his head, his ebony hair shining silver in the moonlight, and howled a long, eerie cry to the great lunar pearl above that was his master. An electric charge of power and energy flowed through him like a flood if fire, oh how he longed to kill… Crouching low again the wolf shot foreword, running for his prey, his legs beating the ground with easy agility, the girl's silvery white gown slipping nearer…

Suddenly, the beast felt a strong tug in his chest and a dizziness swept through him with such force that he fell hard, feet from where the girl lay. His amber eyes managed a last glance at the moon, half hidden by clouds, before it was gone.

It came fast, in a rush. The beast jerked and howled in violent pain as all his muscles clenched and stretched, forcing his body to take the shape of a new creature. His fur shrank, thinning, disappearing… his body thinned, taking the shape of a human's chest and stomach… his limbs pulled in shorter, changing from giant wolf legs to grotesque, furless _things_, to pale, human arms… And with one last, horrible roar that morphed to a man's scream, the great black wolf was a man.

For a moment Bade lay there, panting in exhaustion. His body, clothe-less and no longer protected by thick fur, was covered in stinging cuts from the twigs beneath him and ached from its brutal assault. He scowled. _**Damn** it. One more fine suit left torn to pieces somewhere…_

Still too tired to move, Bade simply lay there. Changing into a werewolf was one of the most excruciating things one could ever experience, and if it was forced upon him once more tonight he wasn't sure if he could bare it.

Usually he could lock himself in his house and hide from the full moon's light, but at times the moon's call was too strong. And this evening… on his way back from Pleoh, he had to get caught in that _fucking_ storm… _Why_ this bloody forest was tormenting him so God only knew…

Gingerly, Bade finally forced himself to stand, eyes closed, massaging his temples.

_What **happened** tonight? Why were the villagers chasing me…?_

He cursed. He couldn't remember. Running his fingers through his black hair, he opened his eyes.

"Oh shit!" He yelled, seeing the unconscious girl and stumbling backward in surprise. He stood there, staring at her. What the hell did he do?

Slowly, he edged toward her, praying she was alive. Kneeling by her, he brushed her hair from her face. Here, he froze.

An angel slept before him. She looked about eighteen; her skin was perfectly smooth; pale silk flushed slightly pink in her cheeks from the night's cold. No, he hadn't done this. The forest must have covered the moon before he could harm her. A small trickle of blood slipped from the corner of her mouth, but she showed no exterior injuries.

Bade wiped the blood away, softly tracing his fingers to the corner of her lips. Her skin was so soft… he longed to caress it further but he forced his hand away.

Only bleeding from the mouth… impact? Had she fallen from a tree? Bade looked up. Possibly. But what to do with her? He had no idea where she came from. He supposed he could take her to his house… he could stay by her side and watch her sleep… Aida could nurse her, and in the morning he could make her a gourmet breakfast and properly introduce himself as her _rescuer_… surely she…

_**No**. Stop being an idiot. You know that's ridiculous._

Slowly he lifted her limp body and stood. She was rather light, and her velvet cape was damp and soft. Looking around he debated what to do. She couldn't be from Pleoh, no one from Pleoh looked so… innocent. The only other village remotely nearby was Adair; he could bring her there… But he couldn't possibly carry an unconscious girl into the village, himself naked and covered in cuts… He would have to wake her, and lead her as a wolf. But how could he wake her? And she would surely run from a wolf, rather than follow it. _Well, I suppose I must try._

Bade set the girl back down. Why had he picked her up? …No matter. How to wake her… Suddenly she gave a slight moan, and her breathing grew louder. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard.

Quickly he took a few steps back from her, and with a strangely swift tucking motion changed himself into a large black wolf. This was the one useful attribute, if you could _ever_ call it that, to being a werewolf: painlessly changing into a normal wolf at will. Well, a big normal wolf. It proved useful for travel and disguise, conveniences Bade found himself needing a lot these days.

He stood over the girl and watched her. She began to stir. Lucky timing, maybe the Forest got over itself and was back to favoring him. Or maybe it was just fond of _her_.

Suddenly, sooner than Bade expected, her eyelids fluttered open and looked at him with the most brilliant emerald eyes he had ever seen.

* * *

A curious numbness buzzed through Rowena's body and something inside her told her vaguely that her head hurt. She wanted to go back to sleep, but this didn't feel at all like her bed…

She opened her eyes to meet warm golden ones. They looked so kind… Her vision cleared a bit and a black snout came into view. Huh…

Suddenly, as realization crashed into her, Rowena sat up violently and crawled backward so fast that her merciful numb feeling vanished and a splitting headache hit her so hard that she simply cried out in pain and fell on her side. The leaves crunched beneath her, but there was no other sound; the wolf had not moved.

Carefully she pushed herself to a sitting position, and was surprised to find the hugeblack beast not crouched nor preparing for attack, but simply sitting like a trained dog, watching her. Utterly perplexed, Rowena just stared back, slightly dizzy but somehow stabled in the deep eyes.

_Oh, good Forest, please help me…_

When she felt ready, she stood slowly, wrapping her cloak tighter around her against the cold, and careful not to break eye contact.

"Stay…" She said softly while slowly backing up, but she felt ignorant saying it; the wolf seemed too… _intelligent_ to speak to this way. But he moved at her words. Rowena froze, her breathing beginning to take extra effort.

_Please don't hurt me…oh god…_

But the wolf simply stretched his front legs out before him and lowered his head, almost as if he was… _bowing_ to her. Did he know? Did this wolf honestly mean to _bow_ to her?

Rowena began to back up again, while the wolf's head was down, hoping to possibly leave unnoticed, but almost instantly she stopped again. She had no clue where she was.

The beast was back to staring at her. What was he playing at? Feeling a bit like the wolf were a human stranger with whom she must make a conversation, Rowena laughed uncomfortably and mumbled, "I don't know how to get home."

The wolf stepped forward, but so slowly and carefully that Rowena resisted the urge to run. She had no chance running from this wolf anyway; he was the largest she had ever seen. So she stood still, avoiding sudden movements and trying to slow her terrified and jagged breathing.

He walked as if he were on thin ice, moving at her carefully… the way she would have approached _him _if she'd had to. Was he well fed and simply curious? Somehow that didn't seem to be right… but something about his manner lessened her fear. His strong black legs padded the ground so softly he hardly made a sound; when he came up right in front of her he stopped and looked directly into her eyes.

Staring back Rowena began to realize that she should be immensely more terrified than she was. Up close, his head was the height of her upper stomach, his legs as long as hers. His sleek, black body was perfectly fit and strongly built, and something about his eyes was so… _knowing_… yet so beautifully dangerous.

The wolf reached out with his snout and grasped a fold of Rowena's cloak in his mouth, and tugged. Then he released her, turned and took a few steps away, and looked back over his shoulder at her.

_Does he want me… t-to follow him…?_

Trembling, Rowena started after the wolf. As they traveled through the endless trees, twisting and demonlike figures looming in the shadows, he kept looking back at her, making sure she was there. As he walked, slower than he obviously could have so that she could keep him in sight, his black fur rippled over working back muscles and gleamed what little light there was to reflect. The trees and clouds were so thick that it was nearly impossible to see, and if the wolf got only a few paces ahead his black body would vanish in the darkness.

As she followed, Rowena's spinning thoughts battled her headache for control. The Forest brought her all the way out here, only to get attacked by a tree goblin, and then be lead to god-knows-where by the likely most dangerous beast in the forest. Her thoughts gave up. Her head hurt too much to analyze how bizarre this was. She would just concentrate on walking carefully and moving her aching head as little as possible.

After some time, Rowena began to recognize where she was. The wolf had lead her _home…? _She was horribly close to thanking the wolf and telling him she could take it from here before she realized how positively _mad_ that was.

_He does **not **know he's taking me home, he will **not **understand me if I speak to him…_

Plus, she did feel rather safe in his company… she might as well stay with him for a bit longer…

When lights came into view and they approached the edge of her village's clearing, the wolf stopped. He turned and yet again gazed at her with his searching amber eyes.

"Er… thank you." Rowena said. Somehow it felt less awkward than telling him to stay like a dog. Again the great black wolf bowed to her, turned, and disappeared into the night.


	3. Adair

Rowena stepped out of the edge of The Forest, her feet leaving the coarse, needle-strewn forest floor and slipping through the cool, wet grass of Adair's outer field. The softness was a comfortable change, but Rowena didn't notice. She focused instead on the many lights in the village center, glowing orange through the darkness. People were holding torches, many of them wearing coats over their pajamas, and standing in groups, talking. As she drew nearer, Rowena could hear them, murmuring in low, serious voices, some mothers shouting at a few curious children to stay out of earshot.

No one was ever out this late. Something had happened . . .

Rowena forced her way through a crowd of villagers, scanning the faces for someone she knew. Everyone was surrounding four particularly excited looking men, who were relating their tale with rampant enthusiasm. She tried to listen in as she pushed through..

"…the poor bastard, he was dead by the time they got the fire down. Whole henhouse, burned to ashes. Not that any of the hens made it before the fire started anyway. Torn to pieces, they were. Saw it myself, on our way home, just after the storm ended. Blood and feathers everywhere…"

"…Charles, Smith and me, yeah. Us four, we was at that new tavern they got there. Saw it just leavin'. Borden brothers live right close by, see. Biggest fire I ever seen. Henhouse went up first, real fast, an' then it spread to the house. All that straw, see, and the wind…"

"…that Everett and what's-'is-name… Banbhan; the idiots, tryin' to scare it off with a torch! Somehow lost it, caught their own damn house on fire! Lazy fools built themselves a wooden one... had to hide in their brother Averill's house. That Averill's a good man. Nice solid brick house too, lucky. I wouldn't have let the other two in… not that it would've made a difference for _Banbhan_…"

"…yeah, attacked 'im head on, just bit 'im right in the neck. The beast knocked that door right off its hinges! I saw it too! _Huge._ A bunch o' local men came to fight 'im off, but they didn't do shit, no matter what they'll brag. The beast left on 'is own. I'll bet they can _feel_ when the moon's about to cloud up. Anyway, everyone rushed to 'elp Borden, but I went round the back to see where it went. BOOM! Righ' there. I met 'im just around the corner of the house; face to face. Lucky 'e was set on leavin'! I saw 'im right before 'e went into the woods. I swear it was the biggest wolf I've ever seen, a _giant_. Jet black… and those eyes, brilliant gold…"

Rowena realized her mouth was open. She had stopped here to listen.

_No…no **way**…he wasn't **that** big…_

"ROWENA!" Some men around her stopped taking and stared at the tall, red-haired woman fighting toward her daughter.

"My god…" Gaea snatched Rowena by the arm and yanked her into a suffocating hug.

"_Mother!_" She moaned. Releasing her from the hug, her mother held her at arm's distance, eyes brimming with tears.

"I was so worried! Mr. Smith and his friends came into town and… I couldn't find you… There was a _werewolf, _Rowena! What happened to our safe little village? …You always go off into The Forest… it's a wonder you've never been hurt… I want you to stay close to home now."

"Alright, Mum." Rowena looked at her mother with concern. She looked awfully frightened.

"What were you doing out there for so long anyway?" Gaea asked, her tone becoming almost accusatory.

Rowena hesitated, not sure that her mother would be able to endure the truth in her current, frantic state.

"Let's go home. Have some tea?"

When they reached the cottage, Rowena went through the living room. Her mother had obviously left in a hurry, the fire was still lit and an open book lay discarded on the armchair. It was now that Rowena realized how cold, wet, and dirty she was. Her hands and feet were completely numb, there were leaves in her hair and mud on her skirt, and her cloak's velvet was heavy and dark with water. She went into her room, stripped her clothes, slipped on a blue lace nightgown, and wrapped herself in her fluffy white bathrobe. When she returned to the living room, she found her mother sitting on the sofa, holding two cups of tea.

Rowena sat next to her mother, and curled up in her robe, sipping from her mug. _This tea is so good_ . . . Her headache was still throbbing dully. She leaned her head on the couch; warm, comfortable, and exhausted.

They sat in silence for a long time. Rowena began to wonder again why the Forest had brought her into its depths tonight. Did it want her to meet the goblin? No, that cant have been it. The wolf? Why . . . ?

Where did he come from? Why did he seem so… _human_? He _couldn't _be the werewolf… Werewolves had to be bigger than that…Besides, werewolves were just murderous beasts who sleept all month until the full moon, when they came out to hunt. Everyone knew that… But then again, everyone also _knew_ that there were no werewolves on this side of the Forest…

It was rumored that werewolves were once humans; that if a werewolf bit you, and you survived, you would become one. But even so… they wouldn't be human any more. They wouldn't have control of themselves anymore… would they?

"Rowena?" Gaea broke the silence. She looked as though she'd wanted to ask something for a while. "What happened in The Forest? You never answered me earlier."

Realizing it would be pointless to lie, Rowena related her story to her mother, up to when she was knocked out.

"So how did you wake up? How did you find your way home?" Rowena paused. Somehow she felt like the wolf's assistance should be kept a secret. She smiled.

"I was rescued by a handsome prince."

* * *

At the heart of the Forest, Bade was just arriving home. Exhausted, he changed himself back into a man and collapsed on the steps. After catching his breath, he stood and grasped the golden knocker and rapped it against the rich mahogany door of his manor. He heard quick footsteps, a pause, and then the grinding of the door's bolts sliding aside.

The door swung open and Bade was attacked by a frantic woman half his size and pulled with surprising force across the threshold. A short, plump Irish woman with frizzy gray hair tied in a loose bun, Aida had an amazing ability of looking completely disheveled and overwhelmingly worried that always made Bade's inner boy laugh.

"Monsieur! You are safe! I was terrified when you did not come home! You are covered in cuts, what happened?" Aida grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around to examine his back. Ducking away, Bade grinned and turned back around.

"Bloody hell, Aida! I don't have any clothes on! Can I go to my room?"

"No no, Monsieur, of course you can't. You go sit in the kitchen, I'll make you soup, you tell me what mess you got yourself into this time." She began pushing him across the parlor toward the kitchen, but Bade escaped and made for the stairs.

"I'm going to get some _clothes, _Aida. And for the last time, you're not _French._"

Aida gave an annoyed scowl and started toward the kitchen, the sound of her heels on the marble floor echoing to the high ceiling.

"Well I _suppose_ I shall start the soup." She paused. "Monsieur?"

Bade cringed inwardly, "_Yes, _Aida?"

"Did . . .why are you smiling?"

"I… I met someone." Bade's grin grew.

"And you also may have killed someone!"

"What were you going to ask?"

"Did…" Her voice lowered to a whisper. "In Pleoh… did you get it?"

Bade's smile faded. "No."


	4. The Apothecary's Shop

_Author's note: Thanks for all the reviews! Pleeeeease keep them coming! Sorry about the wait. P.S. Muchas gracias to my editor Stacey. Much love. (;

* * *

_

Bade awoke shivering in the middle of the night to a pale light shining in a soft ray through his open window. His velvet, midnight blue curtains, parted wide, waved and billowed eerily in the night breeze. _The moon! _He jumped out of bed and ran to the window, careful to stay in the darkness. Why weren't these bloody curtains tied shut? Lucky the light hadn't reached his bed… 

He stopped. On the floor, between his bed and the window and completely blanketed in the moonlight, lay the girl from The Forest. She was on her side, her back to him, her head resting on an outstretched arm and her hair fallen in front of her face. The thin strap of her dress had slipped off her shoulder and rested on her arm… She was positioned exactly as she had been when she was unconscious.

Bade crouched by her, just outside of the circle of light that guarded her. He could not think; his thoughts were distant and quiet murmurings at the back of his mind. He could only look at her. Her arm, resting on her side… pale and flawless silk. Her dress slid like liquid silver along her back, tightening at her tiny waist, and fanning out at her hips to spread in a large half circle across her legs. Somewhere in Bade's mind he numbly realized he had moved himself a bit closer to her… Strange that it was not the moonlight that called to him, but the girl it concealed.

He couldn't take his eyes away from her, he couldn't even see her face and yet she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen… She looked so radiantly angelic in the moonlight; the very barrier that kept him from her, trapping him in his own body. Light imprisoned him in darkness.

Before he new what he was doing, Bade's hand was reaching for her, submerged in the silver light. A hot pain shot through his fingers to his nails, they were extending… his fingers were curling to paws, sprouting black fur…

Jumping in alarm, he fell backward from his crouched position to his back on the floor. Bade awoke to a bright light; the girl had vanished and Aida was standing above him, opening his thick velvet curtains and flooding the room with morning sunlight.

His hand hurt; apparently he had fallen off of his bed and landed on it. Aida was watching him and laughing.

"Startled were you? Are you alright?"

Bade stood up and stretched with a sore groan, squinting at the brightness. "Yeah…" His eyes fell on the floor where the girl had been.

"I made muffins." Aida said, walking toward the door and looking back. "What's wrong?"

"Oh…nothing… strange dream…" He shook his head and followed her.

* * *

A bell somewhere tinkered as Rowena pushed open the heavy door and stepped into the apothecary's shop. The space was narrow and cramped; the walls were filled with shelves of bottles stacking to the ceiling, and tables overflowing with odd packages blocked any comfortable room to walk. As the shelves left no liberty for torches, candles burned randomly about and struggled to provide the room its dim, flickering glow. A mixture of a thousand different scents clouded Rowena's mind, and even as she removed her scarlet cloak and hung it on the blackened silver hook by the door she did not see the tall albino man standing next to her.

"Can I help you miss?" Rowena jumped and spun to face him. Mr. Mallory's voice was smooth, monotone, and quiet, as if he were tempted to whisper. It reminded Rowena of the way one would speak at a funeral. He stared at her with ominous red eyes. His appearance made her uncomfortably cold, coaxing her to turn and run. He was about thirty, but completely bald. His white eyebrows made him appear entirely hairless, save for his pallid goatee that curled like smoke just below his chin. The paleness of the apothecary's skin seemed to glow in contrast to his black cloak, his long fingers like reaching spider webs. Touching his fingertips together in a powerfully intimidating patience, he waited for her response.

"Uh… yes." Rowena stuttered. "Yes, Mr. Mallory, I am Ramona Locke's granddaughter, she was feeling too weak to travel, so I am to fetch her medicine…?"

Mallory continued to stare at Rowena until she felt his crimson eyes were burning hers. When he spoke his voice was even softer and lower than before.

"Too weak…? She will die." Rowena gave a sharp intake of breath and stepped back from him in anger, only to stumble on a low table.

"_No._" She said in hasty defense, catching the tipping stand at the back of her legs and straightening. "She is simply tired today. She is well cared for and she is fine."

"Who are you convincing Miss Locke?" He said, raising an eyebrow.

"She is _fine!_" Rowena said firmly. Her grandmother was fine. What was this man playing at? "The _medicine_, please."

Blank eyebrow still raised, Mr. Mallory turned on his heal, and disappeared into a shadow Rowena had not before noticed was a doorway.

Just as she was scowling at where the apothecary had been standing, the distant bell tinkered again and someone stepped into the shop behind her.

Moving with an awkward sidestep out of the doorway, Rowena turned and found herself face to face with a tall, dark haired man in his late twenties, dressed entirely in black and lowering the hood of his traveling cloak to allow the room's candlelight to caress his strong face and high cheekbones, and glow like fire in his mesmerizing, golden eyes.

* * *

Bade barely caught his gasp in time. _It's her. _For a moment he could only stare, she looked far more beautiful even than he had remembered… She wore a skirt of deep purple and a black corset embroidered with shimmering purple thread over a loose, low-cut white blouse. A simple, black leather string held a small amethyst to her throat… And her eyes… they were searching his, as brilliantly dark emerald as ever… her red hair framed her face softly, and oh, her skin… her skin looked so warm and soft by the golden light of a nearby candle…_You're staring…_

_So is she…_

The appearance of the apothecary from out of thin air shook Bade out of his trance.

"Who are you?" The man, albino apparently, asked bluntly, handing the girl a vial but watching Bade.

"A man from Pleoh, Banbhan Borden, was wrongly sold something I need," Bade said irritably. "I could not find him, but was told he made trade here recently."

The albino laughed, softly and low. This man was furiously creepy and it was starting to get annoying. And there was something about him… he was not quite familiar, but Bade _knew_ something in him…

"Banbhan Borden is dead." The albino spoke with no concern, but rather a mysterious emptiness. His red eyes narrowed and a bizarrely knowing smile twisted his lips. "He was murdered." He leaned closer and lowered his voice to a soft whisper. "By a _wolf._"

Bade frowned and narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the albino. What the hell was… _No… _

Bade stumbled at his words. "Uh… right, well do you have the…"

"Vampire venom?" The albino interrupted. "That is what you want, is it not? Yes. For a price... it is _extremely _rare and… not entirely legal…"

The girl had been watching the odd conversation with a slight frown on her face. Bade noted that the confusion seemed out of place on her. She raised her eyebrows. "Vampires have…?"

She stopped when the apothecary whipped his head around dramatically to face her. "I believe you have what you came for, Miss Locke.-" _Miss Locke…her name is Miss Locke…_"-Unless there is something further that you require… shut the door on your way out." The girl, Miss Locke, glared at him for a moment, and he returned her angry gaze by stepping closer to her with a strange smile and looking her over with an intensity that made her cringe in disgust and hurry to leave.

Something in Bade roared. An unfamiliar protective anger coursed through him, and, although foreign, it was still anger and he felt the hair on the back of his neck not only raise but thicken… he felt a tugging at his teeth and nails… and he had to clench his fists and take a deep breath to force it back and to keep his voice calm.

"It would be to your benefit to reserve that venom for _my_ purchase." He said carefully. "I wish to step outside for a moment, but I shall return in a few minutes." Bade noticed he was blocking Miss Locke from her exit, so he leaned back on the door and held it for her. As she passed, her shoulder brushed against him lightly and a warm, tingling feeling exploded in his chest. Instantly his anger was gone and he no longer had to force back the urge to change. She was looking up at him and smiling… he realized he was already smiling back.

* * *

Rowena brushed against his strong chest as she passed him, she felt almost as though shivers ran down her spine, being this close to him… Who _was _this man? His presence was so familiar... but he was so obviously a stranger here. As she left the shop and started towards the woods, she looked back over her shoulder. He was leaning against the wall, watching her with a hint of a smile playing at his lips and eyes. Rowena grinned shyly at him, turned, and continued.

As she left the road and entered the trees, Rowena could not get the mysterious man out of her mind. Would she ever see him again?

His eyes… they were so… so much like that _wolf's_. Such an amazing color, and so deep… Rowena looked around her and wondered where the wolf was now. Mossy branches twisted around her, rays of glistening sun fell in edged columns, and pastel wildflowers dotted the needle-strewn forest floor… she couldn't fathom such a creature here. The Forest's nighttime mystery had completely transformed with the sunlight. Part of her wanted it back, to see the wolf again… part of her was beginning to doubt the beast had even existed…

Rowena tried not to think about it and looked at the vial she held. It contained possibly the most unappetizing mixture she had ever laid eyes on. Thick, slimy, transparent green liquid rolled lazily in the bottle, and little bubbles of reddish brown gas dotted its surface. Rowena wrinkled her nose and lowered the potion from her sight.

Her grandmother would be fine. She would. She wasn't violently ill, just… sick. The apothecary didn't know what he was talking about. Besides, Ramona Locke would never consume such a repulsive substance unless she knew it was doing her good.

_Well, I shall see her soon, and she will be fine and she will prove that man wrong._

Rowena froze. She heard rustling a ways to her left. Staring through the trees, suddenly she saw something black move quickly past in the distance. She started walking curiously in the direction. Could it be…?

* * *

The wolf paused, and set the bundle of clothes he was carrying in his teeth down to sniff the air. Was he officially mad or could he smell her? She smelt of vanilla and cinnamon… He was answered when he saw a blur of violet pass through a gap in the trees. _There she is._

In a flash Bade was a human and pulling on his clothes as fast as he could. Sliding his feet into his boots he could hear her approaching now…

"Shit." He muttered. There was no time to button his shirt or vest, so he closed his cloak securely over them and picked up the folded red velvet he'd set by his feet just as she came into view. She stopped in surprise when she saw him, about ten feet away.

"It's you." She said. "I mean…" she scrambled to correct herself but relaxed at his smile. He walked to her and bowed gracefully.

"Miss Locke." He said. She smiled and blushed slightly. _I made her blush. _

"I'm glad I found you. You left this." He handed her her cloak, praying that it's return would make her smile for him again.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, taking it from him. "I hadn't even noticed! My grandmother made it, she'd have been so upset, she always…" She stopped, blushing harder. "Thank you so much, Mr….?" 

"Bade." He said, laughing. He hadn't felt the warmth of laughter for a long time.

"Bade." She repeated, smiling. She gave him a small and casual curtsy, keeping her eyes on him. "Well, where are you headed now, Bade?"

"Home," He said, careful to gesture in the very direction she had been going. "Where are you headed, Miss Locke?"

"To my grandmother's house. Same way as you."


	5. A White Rose

I'm sorry about the wait! Don't give up on me, I have every intention of finishing this story, so don't let a long wait chase you away. Muuuuuchas gracias for all your reviews, keep telling me anything you like or dislike. Next time won't take so long I promise. xoxo-Lottea

* * *

"You sold it?"

"Focus, AverillThis guy _requested_ it. He tracked it to your imprudent brother, the fat idiot must have told someone. He thought Banbhan bought it, so no suspicions were traced to you, but he's obviously determined. And why else would anyone want vampire venom? "

"You _sold it_! That was for your use, not your profit! You could have sold-"

"And I _couldn't_ have sold him a fake because he would find out. Soon. There's only one ingredient left, Averill."

"You don't know this bloody potion is why he wanted it! That's actually _highly_ improbable Damn it, Mallory!" Averill slammed his mug on the thick oak table, sloshing its contents and drawing irritated looks from a few men at the bar. He scowled and leaned closer to the apothecary across from him, lowering his voice.

"This does not mean he's the one you've been looking for." He hissed. "How could you have just sold it off like that? Now you're gonna need-"

"You're testing my nerves, Averill. I don't believe you want to see me angry…"

"Mallory-"

"Stop missing the fucking point! This is _him_! I know it, I could sense it. I must find him; watch him. Averill, he may even already know the last ingredient! I need you to ask around, see if anyone here knows where he came from. His surname will be Romulus. He did not speak it to me but he may have elsewhere. Either way, people in this village will remember a stranger. Yes, I will be needing a refill, but get the hell over it…"

"How do I know you won't just _sell _it again!" Averill snapped bitterly. "Do you have any idea the kind of pain-"

Mallory was on his feet in an instant, his tall frame towering over his already relatively tall companion. "DO NOT SPEAK TO ME OF PAIN!" The men at the bar turned around fully this time, and several others from surrounding tables turned in curiosity. Luckily, the old tavern had no windows and was only lit by a small red candle at each table so the light was too dim to show them any change in the apothecary's appearance. Averill, however, leapt from his chair in terror. His black eyes widened and his skeletal, pale face grew slick with sweat as he stumbled backward from the horrifying sight before him.

"Alright, Mallory..." He said as calmly as he could, backing still toward the tavern door, though he could not leave until nightfall. "I-I'll do it. I'll ask around here tonight, return to Pleoh… and I'll… I'll bring you your refill tomorrow, 'soon as the sun is fully set."

* * *

He had been walking beside her, but now slowed slightly to fall behind and watch her without her noticing. She must spend most of her time in these woods; she seemed to belong here. She moved with ease and grace; her bare feet slipped among the dry leaves and twigs soundlessly, the hem of her satin skirt sliding over them like metallic liquid.

Bade's satisfaction with knowing her last name had already faded. He couldn't give a damn who her family was, who was _she_? So… so unlike anyone he had ever met…

What was he thinking? How could he know if he'd met someone like her? He didn't even know her! He didn't even know her first name. He tried to guess, but none would do her justice. He imagined saying whatever it was, feeling it at his lips as he spoke to her, softly, telling her how beautiful she looked…

_Bade, you're a werewolf… you can't-_

She stopped and turned to face him, letting the sun catch her eyes and light their dark emerald to a shocking bright green. For an instant he saw his hands holding her face, her eyes slowly closing, her lips moving to his…

**_Werewolf…_**

"Coming?" she asked. Bade shook the image from his mind. He realized he had fallen noticeably behind her and had now stopped, with no explanation. 

He looked around quickly for an alibi… anything… Suddenly, a small, thorny bush behind the girl and just in Bade's vision began to sway softly as if hit by a breeze, though the air was still. A branch in the front leaned aside and there, hidden in the heart of the bush was a perfect, white rose.

Bade smiled. The Forest. _Being nice now are we?_

The girl turned to follow his gaze, and the bush's movement ceased instantly. Moving past her and going to the plant, Bade bent and picked the rose carefully, twirled it between his fingers and smelled its soft petals. Miss Locke stepped toward him, watching his eyes, curiosity hiding just behind her own. She was still moving toward him, closer… Bade was suddenly aware of the sound of his breathing… She didn't stop until she was inches from him, looking up at him. Bade felt his heart quicken. What was… She…? She was so close he could feel her breath on his neck, the heat of her body…

_Fuck…_

The image of kissing her had returned, he could almost feel her lips, her tongue… She put her hand on his, holding the rose with him, and moved it to her nose. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the pedals' sweet perfume, and then looked back into his eyes. Bade was frozen, he could only stare back at her… her hand was warm on his…

"Nice," she said suddenly with an unexpectedly casual and friendly tone, and took an abrupt step away from him and started to walk again, sliding the rose into her hair as she went.

Bade looked at his empty hand. He hadn't even felt her take it. He started walking, his mind racing.

_What is she doing? What does she want? Is she doing anything? Why did… when she… What am **I** doing? I can't have her! I'm a- What the hell am I thinking, '**have **her?' **I don't know her!**_

Coming up beside her, he wondered if she would notice the nervous sweat on his forehead. Was his face red or had he gone pale?

Rowena felt him come up beside her. She had been so close to him… sliding the rose from between his fingers… she wanted an excuse to touch him again. Sneaking a glance at his face, she wondered if he realized he was smiling. He had a surprisingly friendly smile for someone so mysterious… the kind of smile that shone with warmth even through his eyes. It made her want to smile with him.

"Why haven't I seen you in Adair before, Bade?" She didn't really mean to say it aloud. Her curiosity about him was apparently going to surface now. She made a note to restrain from asking about the vampire venom… maybe she could find out without having to ask.

He seemed to hesitate for a moment before he spoke. "My lifestyle requires a certain… seclusion."

Rowena raised an eyebrow. "You are very skilled at sounding mysterious, Mister Bade No-Last-Name." She said, smiling.

He laughed. He seemed like he was about to speak when something caught his attention.

"Uh… I--Oh, look!" He said in a strangely hushed voice and turned into the trees. Rowena frowned. He was examining a small area in front of a few bushes.

She thought she was going to get him to explain his 'secluded lifestyle.' Was he trying to change the subject?

"…At what?" She asked, walking up behind him. He crouched down, inspecting the ground.

"Don't you see it?" He asked. Rowena, puzzled, frowned at the place he was examining but only saw ordinary forest floor. A few young trees sprouted around the front of two large evergreen bushes that, right next to each other, were squashing together as they grew. An assortment of scattered twigs, brown and green leaves, and pine needles lay pushed back toward the bushes, away from a circular clearing in front of them. Had an animal curled up here?

She kneeled beside him, brushing her shoulder against his, and ran her fingers gently over the grass.

"You see how it's padded down in a circle?" He said, watching her hand. "A young unicorn slept here."

Rowena gasped. "A _unicorn_? How do you know?"

He pointed toward the bottom of the bushes. A small tuft of white fur shimmered from the tip of one of the nearer branches, caught in the needles. Rowena never would have noticed it.

Bade leaned forward and pulled the silvery hair from the branch, looked at it for a moment, and slipped it into his coat pocket.

Choosing to ignore this strange gesture, Rowena asked, "How do you notice these things?"

Bade turned to look at her. "You're not the only one who spends most of your time out here." He smiled and stood; moving very gracefully for rising from the ground. "I try to make a point to notice things." He took her hand to help her as she stood and held it for a moment longer than necessary.

Rowena took the rose from her hair to admire it. "Unicorns and roses." She looked up at him. "Pretty impressive finds in a forest."

Bade took the rose from her hand, brushing his fingertips momentarily along hers. "My mother used to say that the white rose was the virgin sister of the red rose," he said, looking at the flower and walking again. "White is the color of purity, red the color of desire. The white rose is friendly and innocent, while her sister is wise and passionate."

After a moment's silence, he added, "She was very poetic."

An elegant brick house slid into view from behind a cluster of trees. Bade cursed himself for acting so sentimental. His time with her was ending and all he had managed to accomplish was an awkward silence.

_And I still don't know her **name**._

He turned to face her, and was pleasantly surprised to find her smiling at the rose, still in his hand. Was sentimental good?

"Well…" She turned to look at the house, "This is it, so… thanks for… joining me…"

She took an awkward step backward toward the house, not sure whether to face it or him, but Bade caught her hand and pulled her back to him. She stared at him, a hint of a sly smile at her lips and eyes… taunting him…

Holding her by her arm as close to him as possible without actually pressing her against him, Bade slowly, carefully, raised his hand to the side of her face and slid the stem of the rose into her hair, replacing it just above her ear. He noticed her lips had barely parted and he could just hear her breath, slightly heavier now, whispering between them. Her eyes never left his. He positioned the blossom carefully; pausing to savor her hair at his fingertips… and how close his hand was from her face, how close her face was from his…

Suddenly he took a quick step back from her.

_**Fuck**... _

"Good day, Miss Locke," he told the ground, his voice coming out oddly hoarse and hushed. And with that, praying his slight, friendly smile at her didn't look as deceitful as it felt, he nodded a stiff bow and, before she could speak, swept away into the trees.

Rowena stood still, breathing hard and heart pounding forcefully at her chest. That look in his eyes… he was looking at her with such… she could have sworn he was going to…

She had been so caught in his eyes and the closeness of his body that she felt as if he tore away a part of her with him when he turned away so suddenly… _who **is** he?_


	6. Grandmother's House

Hello all! I'm back from the dead. Sorry _again _for the ridiculous wait… I keep breaking my promises but don't give up on me! Hopefully, since it's summer now (yay ), next time won't take as long. Keep reviewing! xoxo Lottea

* * *

Ramona Locke's home embellished all elegancy. The soft grey brick winding along its graceful face and stretching turrets gave the house the feel of a small castle, though its base was hardly wider than a large cottage. Its stature was proud and stately for a small estate, yet the unusual height of its odd, twisting towers embedded with Victorian balconies and thin, arched windows gave the place a curious air of mystery. Reaching up past the treetops, the house looked over a welcoming garden nestled amongst the trees, complete with a small, mossy pond to one side. Unusual flowers and exotic plants overgrew along the bottom of the walls and twisted around the cobblestone path running from the grand oak doors to Rowena's feet.

She smiled. Walking along this path felt like crossing into another world. With each step the forest carpet of twigs and dried leaves transformed into darker, twisting ivy and wild flowers of deep purples and reds. As she came closer to the door some emerald vines stretched out to her and a bush of black rosebuds all opened and bloomed toward her in greeting before twisting shut again.

Rowena knocked on the heavy wood. It was the first time this door had brought her anxiety rather than excitement. Her grandmother had been hiding her illness from Rowena rather successfully until now, but if she was too weak to go to town for her medicine…

"Grandmother?" She found the door unlocked.

Her footsteps echoed from the glossy floors to the carved ceilings until they were lost in leaves. Like the palace of sleeping beauty, the entryway was stunning and elegant like a miniature castle, but so covered in plants it seemed as if it had been sitting here undisturbed for a hundred years, slipping away into the clutches of the forest. Everything was framed in green; the many large windowsills spilled over with leaves, exotic plants in colorful pots filled every corner and stretched up the walls… plants even hung from the high ceiling, overflowing from several hanging pots. A grand, sweeping staircase held the center of the entryway: dark mahogany with deep red carpet leading to the upper floors, and carefully carved railings twisted in vines.

Rowena's two favorite rooms held the front of the house; the music room and the library. Both, on either side of the staircase, had large double doors that were never closed, and were small, cozy, and perfect. The music room, to the right, barely contained the old wooden piano Rowena had played on since she was small, Ramona's violin laying across the bench, a bookcase stuffed with piles of sheet music, and two squashy burgundy couches that were crammed inside. The library to the left could only fit one couch that had to sit in the middle of the room because almost every inch of wall space other than that taken by the fireplace was occupied by overflowing bookshelves reaching to the ceiling. A small, oval coffee table separated the couch from the fireplace with a rather impressive stack of books of its own.

Finding both of these rooms empty, Rowena hurried past the staircase, toward the kitchen. The irrational worry she had inherited from her mother started creeping up her throat as she tried not to think about the apothecary's words.

_She's fine…she just didn't hear me knock… she didn't feel me coming because she's… concentrating on something else… _

What's that smell…?

Bursting through the kitchen's swinging door Rowena was almost knocked off her feet by a cloud of thick smoke that smelled intensely of garlic. Coughing and eyes stinging from the smoke, Rowena tried to see where the sound of crackling flames was coming from through the grey haze when a loud sizzling noise erupted somewhere to her left and the smell of onions joined that of the smoke.

"Grandmother!" she yelled over the sizzling. "Are you in here!" She felt a hand pulling at her elbow.

"Right here, Blossom, no worries…" Ramona's warm, soothing voice sent wave of relief washing over her granddaughter as she pulled her hurriedly back into the hallway. "My goodness I could feel your panic from in there… come on, quickly now, only a few seconds…" she said, pushing Rowena away from the kitchen as quickly as possible. When they reached the stairs there was suddenly the large _boom _of an explosion that blew the swinging door open with a bang, followed by the loud clattering of fallen pots and pans. Rowena jumped almost violently.

"What was that!" she said as, even from here, the sizzling grew suddenly louder. Ramona was still pushing her away, toward the library.

"I'm trying out a new soup recipe." She said cheerfully. She glanced behind her. "Lucky that's a swinging door…"

Rowena laughed. Suddenly she felt much better. How could she have been so worried about someone like her grandmother? She allowed her nerves to be soothed in that warm smile, as she had so many times before. Ramona's mother had been half witch, and had passed a single power to her daughter. Along with the soothing effect of her smile and voice, Ramona could feel the emotions and moods of those around her. She had also inherited the beauty of a witch.

Even at her age, Ramona very beautiful. She kept her long, silvery-white hair in an elegant bun, twisted low, just off her neck, so that whatever unusual earrings she wore that day stayed visible. The pale skin of her face had a radiant glow and an astoundingly youthful smoothness; her only wrinkles were like ripples in buttermilk at the corners of her warm, chocolate-brown eyes, as if she were always smiling.

Today she wore a graceful, deep blue gown fit for a duchess, with a high collar and long sleeves as always, which was of course wrinkled where she had pushed up the sleeves and stained at the hem where she had no doubt been strolling through muddy woods, or, perhaps just trekking through her kitchen.

Reaching the library's only couch, Ramona spun Rowena around into a tight hug. "Oh, Cinnamon, how are you… sit, sit… I'd offer you some tea, but I should wait for the kitchen to clear up a bit first…"

Rowena smiled as she sat close to her favorite person in the world. "No, no, I'm fine, how are _you? _I should be making _you_ tea. Here, I have your medicine," she said, digging out the vial from her cloak and handing it to her.

"Oh, yes. _That._" Ramona sighed. "_This_ is why you were so worried when you got here, because I couldn't make it into town. It's because of that mother of yours… honestly, I take one little stumble and she won't let me out of the house. She can be very strong-minded, you know, even if she did pass her positively _absurd _talent for worrying to you." As she spoke she quickly tucked the vial out of sight.

"_Someone_ needs to worry about you, Grandmother, if you won't." Rowena said.

"Nonsense," she said, slowly standing up again, gripping the table for support and making a rather disconcerting grimace. Rowena leapt up to help but Ramona ignored it. "I think I will start that tea after all, it can't be too bad in there. You just wait here and I'll be back in a minute."

Helplessly, Rowena sat back down and the rose tumbled out of her hair. She bent to lift it and smiled. His dark eyes were still burned into her mind… If that gaze had been directed at anyone else she would have been jealous. She would have said that the heat in his stare was desire… but not with her. That wasn't possible. Rowena was shy and reserved; she wasn't the type to catch attention from anyone. She hadn't even been kissed, and she could feel her innocence written across her face. She sighed. She had been so close to him… she had _moved_ close to him, just to be nearer, just to _look _at him. She had never been so bold before. Had she… had she been _flirting?  
_  
The scent of jasmine brought Rowena from her thoughts. Her grandmother was standing at the doorway with a dainty tea tray in her hands, grinning at her.

"Who is he?" she asked.

"What? Who?" Rowena said, quickly putting the rose back in her hair. Ramona set down the tray and, carefully, sat down next to her.

"Well you were either thinking about a man, or you are awfully fond of your flower there." Rowena smiled.

"His name is Bade." She said, picking up her tea with a sigh. "I'll probably never see him again; he's not from Adair…"

"Bade?" Her grandmother suddenly sounded serious. "Bade _Romulus_?" She was giving Rowena a searching look that made her nervous.

"I don't know, he didn't say his surname… Why?" She returned her grandmother's searching look as Ramona's eyes grew distant in thought. Then she abruptly shook her head, pushing away whatever she was thinking about, and smiled at her granddaughter.

"Oh, never mind, Sweet, I'm sorry. I was the midwife for the birth of a child named Bade Romulus… oh, it must have been almost twenty-six years ago… but I had thought he had… oh, never mind. Honey, you'd better finish your tea and then go on home, your mother is worried about you staying away from home for too long, since this whole…" she paused, frowning in thought, shook her head again and continued, "Since this whole werewolf thing started up."

Now Rowena was truly concerned. Her grandmother had never asked her to leave before, especially if it was only to pacify her mother. Setting her empty tea cup on the table, she hugged her grandmother goodbye, and, just before walking out the door she saw her pull a large black volume from the bookshelf and start flipping through the pages, a determined frown on her face.

* * *

Bade's long fingers caressed the ivory keys, running over them like water. He swayed to the music he created, the dark sound that wrapped around him swelling to every crevice of the room. His eyes were closed, his expression peaceful, his music slow, soft, and content. He didn't know what he was playing; the music was flowing from his fingertips. He thought of her face, her lips, her slender fingers brushing against his. He imagined touching her, caressing her face and stroking her hair, holding her… As his thoughts drifted to kissing her, his hands on the bare skin of her back, his music darkened and grew… As the images in his mind changed to the look of terror on her face when she first saw him as a wolf, the notes slowed and fell to minor, mournful tones.

Suddenly he opened his eyes and stopped abruptly. He began to shuffle through the papers on the piano's music stand until he found some blank sheet music. Pulling it toward him, he started scribbling notes across the page, frowning, trying to remember all of what he had just played. He remained there for most of the evening, only pausing from the page to play a few chords and scratch in corrections or rifle around for more paper. Finally, when he realized it had gotten dark, he stopped for the night. Looking over what he had accomplished, pages more than he had done for months, he smiled. He had something… the beginning of something. He laid the pages on the bench and got up to leave, paused, and went back. Finding the first page and crouching to use the bench as a table, he scrawled a title across the top in simple, graceful calligraphy: "A White Rose."


	7. The Music of Silence

Okay, my excuse this time is that this was originally going to be split into two separate chapters, so I could have posted the first half a while ago, but they needed to be together, and the second half took me much longer to write. A million thanks for your patience :).  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_A silver moon, behind a smoky cloud… a dim, orange glow… thick, glowing air, like fog between the dark treetops… smoke… fire… a rooftop, a house, a black silhouette before a blaze… not a sound…_

_Twisting flames reaching for the sky…_

_A silver moon, a clear sky, a black sea of diamonds… turrets, brick walls, black stone dusted with white starlight… a faint outline… hardly a darker shape on the grey-black brick… a shadow… a door…_

Bade awoke. It was still dark as midnight. Past the foot of his bed, across the room, he could see the black form of his sofa, like a great sleeping beast outlined in the rusty glow of the dieing fire… a single image in the darkness.

Bade's blankets felt like a furnace. He had let it get too warm in here, even in late fall. Outside his cloaked windows, leaves fell dusted with sparkling frost, but the air inside was thick and warm.

He slid out of his sheets and walked over to the fireplace, taking a bottle of brandy and a glass from the mantle. Sitting on the couch he held them out in front of him, about to pour himself a glass, but instead just held them there, marveling at the way the crystal glass sparkled in the dim light, and how the bottle seemed to catch the fire's glow and hold it in the bronze liquid. Finally he set them on the floor and leaned back into the couch. It was too damn hot in here, even half dressed in only thin trousers. He gazed over at the door, just a rectangular shadow on the dark wall.

Had he dreamt about a door?

He stood. Maybe he would take a walk. He didn't feel at all tired, and the cool night air sounded inviting. He replaced the brandy above the fireplace and removed the mantle's only remaining items, a candlestick and a box of matches. He struck a match on the stone shelf and watched it burst into life, momentarily shifting all the long shadows in the room. Strange how, in the darkness and silence of night, a small match could fill a room with its simple light and sound, if only for a moment.

Candle lit, Bade tossed the match into the fire and left his room, gently closing the door behind him. He stepped quietly down the stairs and, listening first for any sound from Aida, undressed and left his candlestick and folded pants by the door. A black wolf slipped out the door and into the trees.  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rowena drank in the cool night air and sighed, her breath a thin white vapor swirling from her lips. Finally, fall was setting in. She loved fall nights, feeling the first icy breaths of frost swept to her on a breeze from a winter waiting just over the horizon. Wrapping up in her cloak, her body just warm enough for the cold to feel good on her face, she closed her eyes, just to listen to the utterly beautiful silence.

Officially disobeying her mother's request to stay home, Rowena stepped into the edge of the forest and the relief of the trees' protective embrace washed over her. She was home now, and finally alone with her thoughts.

Strolling deeper into the dark army of trees and faint shafts of pale moonlight, Rowena suddenly couldn't seem to recall what exactly her thoughts were. Her grandmother's black book, the apothecary, vampire venom, the werewolf attack… all had been distracting her mind all evening, begging her to get away from her mother and think them over, but now that she was alone, even the black wolf she met seemed unimportant. She sighed in defeat. She couldn't keep him out any longer, her thoughts belonged to Bade. No matter how many times she reminded herself that she would most likely never see him again, or if she did, that _nothing_ would happen, she would hear his low voice, or see his golden eyes… Where was he from? What was his last name? Did he like talking to her? Had he only been walking with her to be polite? What would his arms feel like, wrapped around her…?

Rowena grew so distracted she hardly noticed when a tree in front of her began to move. Slowly it stretched out a branch across her path, the perfect height for a seat. She sat down close to the tree where the branch was stronger and she could lean against the trunk. She hoped bringing her the cloak hadn't been any trouble. Did she thank him? Yes… she must have… hopefully… She wondered why he wore all black. Why did she find that so attractive? She felt like she could see his golden eyes in front of her… watching her from the trees.

Something moved. She _could _see eyes…

Rowena jumped so violently she found herself standing again. Something very large was coming toward her…

The wolf seemed to materialize before her, like a three dimensional form emerging from a painted backdrop of the forest. He was slowly stepping out of a thicker patch of trees, into a ray of moonlight in front of her. Her heart was racing; she had forgotten just how big he was…

Shakily, she sat back down on her branch, staring at the wolf, his eyes now at the same level as hers. She wondered if he remembered her. Would a wolf recognize a specific human? He seemed to be searching her eyes. It wasn't possible that he didn't remember her. His great head lowered to the ground, his front legs bending, performing his familiar bow. Yes, impossible.

When the wolf raised his head again, he sat down in front of her like giant dog, just watching her. Even in the moonlight he would be almost invisible if it weren't for the silver shimmers in his coat and those glowing eyes. Without really knowing why, she slowly reached out her hand and, very carefully, stroked his head. His fur felt like cool silk. It was like she was taming a grizzly bear, like any wrong move would be her last, but his eyes closed under her hand and when she drew it back she could have sworn those eyes where smiling at her.

Time passed with a dragging, unfamiliar pace. It could have been two minutes or twenty that they stayed there, watching each other's eyes, breeze breathing through the treetops above them and long, smoky clouds crawling across the moon and through the stars.

Finally, Rowena's branch began to lower, angling to the ground, willing her to stand. She and the wolf both stood, equally unsurprised at such a gesture from a tree. The amber eyes watched her for a moment, seemingly frowning at her, as if he were deciding about something. The moment passed and, apparently having made the decision, he turned from her and walked slowly into the trees, pausing a few paces away to turn and look back at her.

He was asking her to follow him again, but this time, he was leading her away from her home.

Night had such a strange effect on the senses. The darkness tried to cloud the vision, hiding the world, yes, but opening the heavens and allowing whole other worlds, eternities away, to shine their tiny lights upon the eyes. The weight of the blackness seemed even to weigh upon the ears, surrounding the mind with such a silence that the sound of thought started to become real. And yet, the tiniest drop of water could resound clear as a bell, the slightest movement could rustle clothes like wind in the trees.

Rowena could hear the breath of a breeze too soft to feel, and each patch of grass softly brushing against her feet. She could hear her skirts flow across her legs and the wolf's feet quietly padding the earth. She could hear the slight, rolling chirping of distant crickets, so far and quiet that it seemed she could only detect it from her subconscious.

And yes, she could see as well. Stars twinkling in the blackness of the sky, and the even blacker silhouettes of reaching branches and tall treetops against them. Different degrees of darkness standing in columns of tree trunks and starlight at varying distances, all in a crowd around her. And of course the silver shimmers of the wolf's coat defining his shape from the flood of black surrounding him, and his gleaming, golden eyes, looking back at her to announce they had arrived.

The trees were very dense here; they stood before a wall of tight evergreens and thick brush. The wolf bowed his head and pushed through two bushes, but Rowena had a harder time. She fought with a great number of branches scratching and swatting at her from all directions until she was on the other side, frozen instantly with awe.

It was a large pond, wider than it was long, winding between the trees, a thick wall of them guarding it on all sides. In most places, a band of thick, marshy grass separated the water from the trees, but here and there a willow tree sat close enough to drape its long, vine-like branches over the water's edge, and just graze its surface. The absence of trees in the pond's area allowed in a flood of starlight, bathing everything in silver light, lining every dark tree, every grey blade of grass. Tall cattails rose from the grass, and clusters of small, blossomless lily pads lay near the water's edges, all completely still, silent. The most beautiful of it all was the water itself, utterly still and smooth as glass, a great mirror or, perhaps, a window, separating this world from one exactly like it, upside down and just beneath the surface. The waning moon shone right from its very heart like a great, glowing pearl.

Rowena had nearly stopped breathing. It was the most eerily beautiful scene she had ever seen… she never wanted to leave… however, she would be too afraid to be here alone. But she wasn't alone. She looked at her companion. He was sitting a few paces away, watching her. When their eyes met, he looked away, curling up on the ground and resting his head gently on his paws.

Rowena sat down next to him, the tall grass soft and welcoming. The wolf raised his head again to search her eyes once more.

_Thank you, _she told him through her gaze. He lowered his head again, still looking up at her with his eyes. Rowena arranged her cloak evenly beneath her, and she too lay down, resting her head on her arm, watching him. If she looked so deeply into his eyes that everything else faded, she could imagine they were the eyes of someone else, the eyes of a man, lying beside her beneath the stars, protecting her, holding her… At the same time, the two sets of eyes, both the emerald and the gold, slowly closed, and soon, both girl and wolf had drifted off to sleep.

Around them, the drifting clouds settled over the moon and the silver shine of the pond dimmed to grey, and, as the breeze hissed quietly in the treetops, the distant crickets sang, and the soft breath of the two creatures in the grass slowed to the deep, even pace of slumber, in this enchanting silence that was not silence, in this darkness glowing ever so softly with light, the world, too, fell asleep.


	8. From His Lips

The sky to the west was still a dark indigo, some late stars dotting just above the dark treetops. The east was smeared with pink and orange, rich and bold against the dim earth and lighting the pond like a puddle from drops of its own rosy glow. Each blade of grass was still a black silhouette against the water, the drops of dew clinging to their tips twinkling with the lingering fireflies. The trees were a jagged, black wall surrounding Rowena and her sanctuary.

She sat up. Her clothes were damp and cool; her hair smelt of the dewy grass. The wolf was nowhere in sight.

She felt ashamed. What was she doing? Falling asleep in the woods, making friends with a preditor, could she be any more recklessly dangerous?

She had felt so safe… It was all so enchanting… She had felt like the grass was beckoning her to lie down; like the trees were willing her to trust them, to let them protect her… Or had it been the forest, willing her to trust the wolf?

But why? He was just a _wolf_. He wasn't even here. He had probably left soon after she fell asleep, bored with her, perhaps gone off to look for food.

…Food being a living creature somewhere. Why had she been so foolish? She was lucky she had been safe until now.

She stood to leave. She should go home before her mother wakes. She should go home before her luck runs out.

* * *

Bade ran back up the stairs to his room feeling utterly ridiculous. He had run home as fast as possible and, being a large _wolf_ running as fast as possible, he was home in less than a minute. But since then, he had so far wasted at least half an hour, just dressing. He had finally decided on his black vest, with the royal blue embroidery, with black trousers, a crisp, white dress shirt and, of course, his black coat, not realizing until he grasped the handle of the front door that he was _not_ gong to the _opera_.

He threw open his bedroom door in hurried frustration, shrugged off his coat and started attacking the buttons of his vest with one hand, slashing through the shirts hanging in his wardrobe with the other.

_Damn. Shit, fuck, damn. _

He threw his vest to the floor and started on the buttons of his shirt.

_She's going to wake up, and she's going to leave. What the fuck were you thinking, leaving her out there alone? _

He tried to reason with himself. No one knew about that place except for, like, fairies. She was virtually walled in, and daylight was approaching anyway

_What are you going to do, waltz back in there, wait for her to wake up, and then scare the shit out of her? A strange man standing over her when she wakes up will certainly make an impression, but not quite the one you're looking for…_

"Monsieur?"

Bade jumped and spun around. Aida was standing right behind him, fully dressed, hands on her hips, frowning her big grey eyes at him.

"Christ, Aida..."

"What are you up to?" She asked slyly, narrowing her eyes.

"I… er…" It would have been hard to reply if he _had _known the answer, but it struck him that he, in fact, had no clue what he was doing.

Aida's mock suspicion melted away and she giggled.

"_I _think you should take her some of my muffins."

Bade laughed. His favorite, black linen shirt on and ready, he reached around her to grab his coat from the bed and started for the door.

"Do you _always_ get up this early?" He called behind him as he left the room.

* * *

The house was wide and rectangular, with a square, protruding tower at each end. Its color was an off-white closer to gold or brown, aging its castle-like appearance deep into the heart of time. It had a gothic style, intricately carved around every tall, rectangular window, with elaborate pinnacles crowning each tower and lining the edge of the roof like the gate to an eerie, enchanted garden. Lacy spires fenced each balcony and reached sharply for the heavens, others dripping down from a carved ledge separating each story of windows. It was four stories tall above ground, surely sitting on more beneath, wider than six average houses, and there was no telling how far back it went, behind its stunning façade.

It was the most beautiful house Rowena had ever seen. It had only been about a five minutes' walk from the pond; she was surprised she hadn't stumbled upon it on the way there. She assumed the place must be abandoned; it was so enclosed by trees that she hadn't even seen it until she was about ten yards away.

She craned her neck to see if she could see into any of the windows. There must be at least a hundred rooms in this place… What could an estate like this possibly be doing out here, isolated in the middle of the forest? Did this area have a king, hundreds of years ago?

Rowena walked quietly up the huge steps to the great front doors. The rich, reddish wood was almost black with age, but its smooth carvings were flawlessly intact. The two doors were perfectly identical, each with a large, sweeping capitol "R" in the center and a heavy golden knocker just below.

She reached out to touch the dark surface, running her fingertips down to the elaborate golden handle.

_I wonder… _

She grasped the handle and turned it. It was heavy and stiff, but unlocked. Slowly, she pushed open the door and stepped inside. Her breath caught in her throat. It was stunning. The entry was large and open, with marble floors and high ceilings. A magnificent staircase stood grandly before her: dark, shining wood with a heavy, scarlet carpet spilling down the steps. Above her, a large, golden chandelier hung glittering from the ceiling, adorned with thick, dripping candles and crystal prisms twinkling in the rays of sun streaming from the windows.

To her left was an elegant parlor, furnished with Persian rugs and lush sofas, tall bookcases, dark coffee tables, and a large, welcoming fireplace.

Rowena imagined this must have been the home to a very prominent family. The décor was well-kept and not as old as the house seemed to be. Perhaps their family had lived here for generations, until they left… No, something must have happened to them. They would have taken their things… Why had this place gone unnoticed? Rowena walked to a bookcase in the parlor and ran her fingers over the volumes. They weren't even dusty. How recently had this place been inhabited?

She heard footsteps on the stairs.

Rowena froze for a single moment, gauging how far the open door was and if she could possibly reach it unnoticed. Then she ran anyway, her legs making the decision before her mind.

She slipped out the door and slammed it behind her and ran down the steps. She heard the door open again behind her, and footsteps in her pursuit.

"Hey!" a man's voice shouted.

Rowena reached the cover of the trees and pushed harder. He was still chasing after her, he sounded close. She couldn't loose him…

Oh god, what had she gotten herself into? Why did she have to run? He was going to catch her and surely think she was a thief… what would he do to her? Why couldn't she have just stayed calm, _not _run, and explained herself?

She was growing tired. Her heart was pounding, she was out of breath; he was going to catch her…

The footsteps stopped. Had he given up? She tried to run further but her legs refused. She slowed to a stop and turned around.

No one was there. How had he just disappeared? Was this a trick? She turned around quickly to run again and ran right into the wall of a chest.

She gave out a gasp mixed with a cry and tried to push away but his hands were around her wrists and he was too strong against her struggle and she couldn't-

It was him. It was _Bade. _Rowena froze, everything else spiraling downward into dark confusion, leaving her staring into his endless, golden eyes.

He sighed. He was still panting. So was she. God she had forgotten how beautiful he was… his thick, dark hair was falling in his eyes, letting them shine through like fire… His chest was so strong and warm…

"You…" she whispered.

"Miss Locke," he exhaled, relieved to have stopped running, "_What _were you doing in-"

Rowena suddenly dug herself out of the peace in his eyes and fell back into rushing reality. She took advantage of his loosened grip to push away, although she could not force herself to move backward more than a step.

"Why were you chasing me!?" she demanded. His weary expression changed to defense and he took a firm step toward her to close the gap again. She stood her ground, she was almost touching him, close enough that he was looking down at her, and she up at him.

"Why were _you _in my _house?_" He retorted. She could feel his breath when he spoke. She could smell him; he smelled clean, almost like pine needles.

"I _thought_ it was aband- _your_ house?"

"Yes," he said, a little uncomfortably. He hadn't meant for that to be said.

Rowena just stared at him for a moment.

"Who _are _you?"

He didn't answer. He was looking at her, really _looking _at her, directly into her eyes. Rowena realized she was still breathing heavily. She could hear him panting as well. His chest was rising and falling. He was awfully close to her... Her heart started beating faster again. Why was he looking at her like that?

Then, all at once, she was in his arms. His right hand pressed her to him at her lower back and his left held the side of her face, slowly moved back through her hair to hold her head, and he kissed her.

It was as if Rowena's whole world had melted away and there was only Bade… Her eyes had closed on their own, her hands found their way to his chest. His tongue was grazing the seam of her lips. She parted them with a moan, sliding her hands up around his neck to hold herself closer to him.

Bade's heart couldn't beat fast enough. Her breasts were pressed against him; he was holding her, the forbidden. At her moan he could no longer stand to move slowly or gently. He slid both his hands to the middle of her back and forced her up against him, crushing her to him. She moaned again and they both dove deeper into the kiss, her fingers were running up through his hair from the nape of his neck.

_Christ… _

She wanted him. This beautiful creature was clinging to _him_, moaning with passion. And she _fit_ him. Her soft, perfect lips were just below his own, her body molded to his…

No... he had to leave, before it was too late. Perhaps it already was… But no, this couldn't be... He was dangerous. He would have to live his life alone, it was his curse. If she… if she really wanted him, he was only putting her in more danger every second he was with her…

He forced himself to break away. She was still holding his neck, looking up at him with her eyes, those oceans of emerald, dark and vibrant as ever. He took each of her hands in his own and brought them down from his neck, but she ran them down his chest before returning them to her sides. He moved back from her, only enough so they were no longer touching, and looked at her. She was watching him. God, she was beautiful… her cheeks were flushed, the skin of her neck was creamy, pale porcelain, plunging down beneath her cloak, her lips were red, wet and swollen, her hair falling in gentle waves around her face and down her back, and those eyes… It was all he could do to keep from taking hold of her again and never letting go.

"I'll… let you be on your way, Miss Locke…" he said softly, hardly above a whisper. She just stood, staring at him. He turned to go but she caught his hand lightly.

Oh, god, if he didn't leave now he never would…

"Yes?"

"My name," she said quietly, "is Rowena."

If a spirit could rise in joy and plummet in sorrow at the same instant, Bade's did. Yes, _Rowena, _it was perfect. It had to be.

He brought her hand, slender and elegant, to his lips, and kissed it.

"Rowena." he whispered. The next moment he swept into the trees and was gone.

Rowena stood still, stunned. Her mind felt completely blank and overcrowded with thoughts at the same time. All she could make out was that she had never before heard her name sound so beautiful.


	9. The Serpent of Eden

Okay, fanfiction is being a jerk, so please try to ignore the randomly italicized paragraphs in my previous chapters and things like two words smushed together and dashes across the page instead of lines. And if some of my chapters decide to _disappear,_ just keep trying and they should come back… But anyways Gosford Park is a good movie and you should all see it and Clive Owen is a sexy bastard _and _look how quickly I updated!! _Two days_! I'm getting better at this, yes?

P.S. I've recently realized that Edward Norton is a sexy bastard as well.

* * *

Bade slammed his fist on the table in frustration. It didn't make _sense. _He had done it _perfectly_. The drop of vampire venom had turned the liquid completely colorless… there was just enough pure oxygen at the surface… the vial was completely sealed…

He picked it up again and shook it violently, the clear liquid fizzing and churning, and then set it down on the thick wooden table again and bent to see it at eye level.

"Red, give me _red _damnit!" he shouted at it.

Nothing.

He ran his hand angrily through his hair and returned to pacing his lab. Thick wooden tables of all different heights surrounded him, some littered with large, dusty volumes, lying open to a yellowing page or stacked in messy heaps, others piled with test tubes, beakers, and bottles of varying questionable contents or strange, rusted metal instruments, each sitting at rest from some unknown use. Desks, scattered with papers, lined the stone walls beneath their rows of cluttered shelves, page after page as black as they were white with writing, covered with scribbled equations or careful diagrams, all lying abandoned underneath an assortment of pens and ink bottles. Bade loosened the thin black cravat at his throat and irritably undid the top button of his wrinkled white cotton shirt.

The iron in the venom should mix with the oxygen and turn _red_. He thought he had been so close… perhaps even only one ingredient away… and the one result he could actually _expect_ just, blatantly, refused to work.

He set the chair he had kicked over in frustration upright again and sat in it, throwing his feet up on the table and rolling up his sleeves. He set his chin on the knuckles of his right fist and drummed his left fingers on the armrest in thought. Then he stood back up and kicked the chair over again.

All he could think about where those goddam eyes! He couldn't concentrate! Why did she have to be so- …goddam- …_pretty_!?

He started pacing furiously again.

Okay. He hadn't left the house in three days. How must she feel, when he just kisses her and then disappears? This wasn't protecting her… this was being a coward! …Or a bastard. He wasn't accomplishing anything from _hiding_ from her. He was accomplishing _less_ because he couldn't get control of his own goddam thoughts. So why couldn't he just…

_**No**… These are just excuses to see her again_.

But maybe he could just tell her… that he was going away soon, so he could see her for _now_, but…

He picked up the chair again and collapsed in it wearily. Apparently this was turning him into an idiot, as well as tearing him apart. He knew the answer. He would have to avoid her if it killed him. Every time he was with her it would only be more dangerous for her, and harder to let her go. Let her think him a bastard. Let her _hate_ him. This was how it had to be… he had always known that.

He had just never expected it to be so hard.

* * *

Bade spent the next three hours in front of the fire in his library, staring into the flames. When the dinner hour had come and passed, Aida came and slowly opened one of the double doors to the room and knocked softly on the doorframe.

"Monsieur?" she said, sounding worried.

"I'm not hungry, Aida." He said quietly.

"No, Monsieur. You have a visitor."

Bade froze. He heard Aida's footsteps recede down the hallway, and another set enter the room.

* * *

He had been sitting in a large leather chair facing the fireplace, slumped low and staring. When she entered he stood quickly and spun around. Black trousers fell straight down his long legs to bare feet. He wore a simple black vest over a weathered white shirt of soft cotton, rolled to his elbows. The cravat at his neck was loosened, and she could see the start of his collarbone at the base of his throat. His hair was messed and falling in his eyes as it had when he kissed her. His skin looked golden and warm in the firelight; his eyes were flickering with the flames.

He was looking at her in horror.

"What are you doing here?" he said bluntly. It wasn't the greeting Rowena had hoped for, but somehow his manner had led her to expect it.

"What do you think?" she said, sounding a little more upset than she had meant.

"Look you can't… you have to leave." he said. Rowena realized he was deliberately avoiding her eyes.

"No." she said stubbornly, returning his sour tone. His eyes flicked to hers but he looked away again in an instant.

"You… you can't…" he seemed to be desperately searching for the right words in a sea of the wrong ones. "There are things you can't know about me." he released. "I'm…" he scowled, "…_dangerous_." He seemed disgusted with himself for using the word.

"I don't care." she said simply. Another fleeting glance from his eyes. "You can't just… _do _that to me and then vanish." she said. Now his eyes were intently locked on hers. "Is it the house? Your last name? The… the _vampire _venom? Don't tell me; I don't need to know." She took a few steps toward him while she spoke, but he held his place across the room.

"My surname is Romulus." he said, after a pause. "My ancestors were cousins to a king, hundreds of years ago. Since then, most of us have been doctors or scientists; this house was a gift from an Elvin king, one of the last monarchs. It was in the heart of the forest and relatively equidistant from the surrounding villages, where, at the time, the elves would help my relatives find ingredients for medicines and take the finished remedies to villagers." He sighed, almost mournfully. "Sometimes… the more desperate villagers would come to us."

Rowena was frowning in confusion.

_Oh. That was... very simple._

She thought this was what he had been _hiding_ from her… but it was a perfectly, _ordinary _explanation.

But then again… he spoke as if he was leaving something out… and why did the story seem to make him sad? Why had she never _heard_ of his family? Why did he live here alone with a single housekeeper? Where _was _this family of his?

Were _these_ the questions she had promised she 'didn't need to know'?

And he had left out the…

"The vampire venom was simply an ingredient I needed." he said, reading her mind.

"So," she said carefully, "You're a doctor as well…?"

"No." he said shortly.

She opened her mouth to speak and then stopped, still frowning. He sighed again and added, "I'm continuing a single work of my father's."

"So where is your fa-"

"Look, Ro- Miss Locke, that's all I have to give. I don't know what else I can explain; but you _must_ go." Something in the way he spoke, and the way he looked at her, made him look so dreadfully _tired_.

"Do you… _want_ me to go?" she said, moving a bit closer to him, afraid of his reply.

He was suddenly looking at her with immense concern. He went to her, closing the remaining space between them and took the side of her face in his hand.

He opened his mouth to speak, and paused. He wanted to tell her he would rather die than see her go. He wanted to tell her that hell itself was standing in the way of his utterly hopeless obsession for her… but he couldn't. She _had _to think he didn't care, for her own safety, she had to leave…

She had to stop looking at him like that…

"No." The single word fell from his lips, simply and hopelessly, and entirely without his permission.

She was looking at him with an intensity he could only have dreamt he would ever receive… why had he allowed himself so close to her? He dropped his hand but couldn't force himself to move away.

"Then I refuse." she said softly. She filled the last of space between them and pressed her hips and thighs against his, running her hands up his chest, behind his neck and through his hair…

He closed his eyes, anything to break from her stare… the hair on the back of his neck rose and his breath deepened at her touch, but he winced as if her fingers burned him. He resisted the urge to touch her, leaving his arms dumbly at his sides, but the bulge in his pants must have given him away; he was sure she could feel it; she was pressed against it…

He tried to keep his head erect, his eyes closed, his face strictly aimed above hers, but her fingers, twisting through his hair, were pulling his head down to face her, he felt her rise on her toes and her check brush against his as she reached for his ear with her lips…

"Bade…" she whispered, a plea barely above a light breath.

He lost it, she had broken him. He grabbed her by the waist and pushed her backward across the room, pressing her to the wall by the door with his own body. His lips found hers and he forced his tongue into her mouth, kissing her hard, desperately. He slid his hands all over her body, pressing her harder to the wall and feeling every inch of her, her hips, her waist, her stomach, her breasts, her hair…

She was moaning, her hands grabbing fists of his hair… then she was running them down his chest, his abdomen, her fingers rippling over the edge of his vest to the buttons of his pants…

He gasped and pushed away from her, taking a step back and looking at her there against the wall with a sort of terror. His heart was pounding and his chest was heaving.

"Go." he said shakily. She stood there, her hair in tangled waves from his hands, cascading over her bare neck, the neck of her cloak pushed open wide to the edge of her shoulders, her cheeks flushed and her lips bruised…

"NOW." he demanded.

She slid sideways to the doorway. "I'm coming back tomorrow." she said, turned, and left.


	10. Addiction

Hey everyone, long time no see… I explained what's going on in my profile. I wrote the most of this forever ago, but I couldn't decide about the last of it and, well, read my profile.

* * *

It was cold. The air was eerily still and most of the trees had lost all of their leaves. The sky was a blanket of billowing grey clouds, hiding the warmth and light of the sun and pressing in the silence. Rowena usually liked days like this, it was strangely beautiful when the world seemed to lose its vibrancy to the thin, still air and thick clouds. All colors were dull and subdued, touched with silver light rather than gold; sounds seemed echoing and muffled at the same time; out of place. 

But today was too still; too quiet. Like the calm before a storm.

Was the whole world telling her not to go?

She hadn't expected to suddenly feel so nervous. But the woman in her seemed to have realized how naïve she was. She had no idea what she was doing. She was an ignorant child with a crush, a new feeling of maturity she had too quickly grown addicted to. But he was a man, not a boy, and something about her was clearly eating at him. She felt like if she were only more mature, she would suddenly know what this meant, and how to deal with it. But all she had discovered was that he did, in fact, want her... and to be wanted, to see it in his eyes, was perhaps the most seductive addiction of all.

She wanted so badly to go to him... just to be in his arms. She wanted to spend her life staring into his eyes; nothing else seemed to matter. Bade, this man she had only just met, was everything. Was this love? No, this could not be love. Such a thing as love must be far beyond this, not so easy to reach. But it was certainly something she had never felt before, and something she never wanted to be without again. This was obsession.

So why couldn't she go to him? She could tell he wanted her, she thought with a grin; she was half way there now, but something had stopped her and she had resorted to pacing a five-foot long rut through the wet leaves. Why was she so worried? It couldn't be the way he pleaded her to stay away, because that wasn't what he had truly wanted. He seemed so tortured… but from _desire_; she was a temptation, and that only thrilled her and drew her to him…

Perhaps it was how _she_ had acted… how she had become someone almost completely different: passionate and seductive, terribly naïve but laying her innocence on the table to be sacrificed…

So was it the girl in her, afraid of losing her innocence, or the woman, appalled at her ignorance, and warning against that deeper thing she couldn't grasp, whatever was standing between her and Bade? Whatever it was, it was losing its war with her selfish desire, and she found herself moving onward.

* * *

Her hand had barely touched the knocker when the door swung open. He had her by her shoulders; he pulled her inside, closed the door behind her and pushed her against it. He had been waiting for her. He was still dressed in the white shirt and black vest of the day before, but his cravat was missing and his hair was even more untidy. 

Had he been up all night?

His hands landed on the wood on either side of her; he was leaning against the door and caging her in with his arms. His face was only inches away, his eyes burning fiercely down at her.

"You shouldn't have come." She looked back at him nervously.

"Well I-" He was kissing her before she could finish her sentence. It only took her a moment or two of wide-eyed surprise before she willingly kissed him back. God the way he kissed her… like he had thirsted for her lips for an eternity. Her entire body was burning, she couldn't press herself to him hard enough. She ran her hands through his hair, behind his neck, up his back and down his chest but she couldn't feel enough of him, nor he of her.

His eyes were closed in a pained frown as he pulled her against him. He parted her cloak open and pushed it off her shoulders, the weight of it pulling the sleeve of her loose white shirt off one shoulder, slipping down her arm and held in place only by her light grey corset. She still wore the amethyst at her throat. He slid his hands from the sides of her neck down along her collarbone, pushing the neckline of her shirt wider, feeling the creamy, bare skin of her shoulders and throat… he ran his palms over the soft swell of her breasts and down the front of her corset to hold her waist… he moved one hand down over her hip to wind around the back of her thigh until his fingers pressed through the folds of her skirt and between her legs… sliding the other up her back, anxiously searching for the best way to force her against him…

Rowena felt her lust rising inside her and taking over, weakening her, clouding her mind. She was intoxicated. Her surroundings faded until there was only the space between their necks and the soft rustle of their clothes; his warm fingertips caressing her skin; his strong chest and arms, holding her; the beating of his heart; his breath, passing from his mouth to hers, their lungs sharing oxygen. Her hunger for him was swelling in her chest and rushing through her like fire in her blood.

He stopped abruptly. Both were suddenly stilled by the realization of their complete defenselessness against each other, Rowena embarrassed at her overzealous reaction to him.

When their lips parted he was holding her in place by her shoulders again, slightly distancing himself from her, separating them just enough so they were no longer pressed together, though she would not allow their hips to separate. Both were panting softly, their hot breath swirling in the small space between them. Rowena stared into the churning, liquid gold of his eyes. He was thinking, hard. He seemed to be frozen there, something in him dragging him away from her, but his hands refused to release her. His eyes held the same tortured look as the night before, but stirred with thought.

He was going to tell her to leave again, she knew it. He was deciding if she was worth whatever he was fighting. She suddenly felt like she was on a scale, expected to outweigh all of the other women in the world, all of them far more beautiful, wise, and deserving of him than she was. If he told her to leave again, she would lose all of this... this feeling of being wanted... him... She would not come back without his permission again. She tried to beg him with her eyes, to convince him that she was worth it, that she deserved a chance; but she couldn't even convince herself.

* * *

Aida bustled down the hall toward the entry, wondering if the knock at the door had been the pretty little redhead. 

Not that anyone else would come knocking.

When she approached she could hear the sort of filled silence of people present, _being _silent. She crept along the side of the staircase to peep around and spy.

The girl was backed up against the door, her hair in soft, tangled waves, her cheeks flushed and her lips bright red and wet. Her cloak was on the floor at their feet. Bade had her face in one hand, the side of her neck in the other, his hips pressing hers to the wood. They were locked in a gaze, not of sweet, young love, but of serious, questioning thought. Aida, in the former case, would have had to suppress a giggle of delight, but she was instead frozen in place by the depth of the scene before her. Those searching, emerald eyes seemed to fill the room with anticipation.

Bade was making a decision. Knowing what it must be, Aida leaned forward, trying to read his thoughts.

Sensing the movement, Bade released Rowena and stepped back-the regrettable movement in slow motion-and turned toward Aida.

_Coddswollop._

Aida had her innocent expression affixed to her face, quick as a flash, and trotted over to them as if she had only just arrived.

"Monsieur, darling, I do very much prefer it when you put on _new _clothes in the morning-well _hello_, dear, how _are_ you, cold out isn't it, would you care for some tea?"

Rowena, looking utterly thrown off balance, shook her head to clear some confusion and managed an "er, a-alright, that would be nice…" before realizing with a start she was still relying on the door for support. She jerked forward quickly, adjusted the slipping sleeves of her shirt awkwardly with a deep blush, and turned to Bade for consent about the tea.

Something about the way Rowena could hardly stand made it absolutely necessary for Bade _not _to look at her, so he glared at Aida for the intrusion instead.

"Give her whatever she wants, I'll change." He said bitterly, but he went up the stairs with relief. She was staying, for now, and it wasn't his fault. There was nothing he could do about it right now, so… so be it.


End file.
